


You were too much (then all at once you were just enough)

by BoredMoose



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, Implied Phichit/Chris, It's not very subtle but I tried, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-04 03:31:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10982457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoredMoose/pseuds/BoredMoose
Summary: “English?” he asks in a heavily accented voice. Yuuri nods. Maybe they are getting somewhere with this communication thing after all.“Yeah, english is fine. What’s your name?” he tries, and if he says it a little slower than he usually would, who can judge him?“Viktor”The AngelViktor says, pointing at his chest, implicating, that yes, indeed, it is him that is named Viktor.“Alright,” Yuuri gulps a bit at that, but then he stands up from his kneeling position next to the lying man, offering a hand to help the latter up. “Now, I’m sorry, but this is not, exactly, uh… your room. Could you please tell me where you live, so I can point you there or even find someone who could escort you?” He could just as well address the problem right away.“Saint Petersburg,” Viktor looks up at Yuuri, confused, as if he didn’t just punch the air out of his lungs with those two simple words. “I live in Saint Petersburg.”You Barged Into My Dorm Room At 4 AM Drunk Off Your Ass And Begged Me To Sleep On The Floor Because You Couldn't Remember Where Is Your Room!AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from "Just Right" by Tessa Violet
> 
> This is my first time a) posting on AO3 b) writing for YOI c) writing in English (And I'm scared, someone please hug me)
> 
> I sort of just had to get this thing off my chest because this idea has been in my head for ~3 months and it had to be done.
> 
> Noru if you found it, please don't read it because I feel like this gets progressively worse and worse and I don't want you to know how awfull this is. Just stop right now. I love you, but I swear I will block you out of my life if you read past the first paragraph.
> 
> That being said, enjoy : D

Sitting awake in their shared dorm room at an ungodly hour on a Saturday is not an unusual situation for Yuuri, even though it technically should be. Making use of the fact that he somehow managed to convince Phichit to leave for a party alone, he probably should either sleep or study yet here he is, feeling anxious for whatever reason (he’s not sure why it’s happening either, _maybe it’s just the pre-exams stress, yup, that ought to be it_ ), half-laying on the couch and scrolling through his phone.

He’s not even hungry anymore, which is a plus of the situation, because he can't think about food in moments like this. He can’t think about anything, to be honest, thoughts racing a thousand miles per minute, leaving him in an undefined state of panic.

Yuuri swipes his thumb down, refreshing his instagram feed only to discover another disturbingly well-taken selfie of his flatmate with an unknown to him (yet oddly familiar, as if they’re sharing a class on a Monday morning when no one's awake enough to memorize their colleagues) blond guy, his tan face stretched into a wide smile with an alcohol blush staining his cheeks. The latter seems a lot more drunk, throwing a wink and a kiss to the camera. Yuuri smiles against his own mood - at least his best friend is having fun today.

And don’t get this boy wrong, no, if he knew he was going to have a tough night, he’d probably willingly go with Phichit to whatever party he decided to attend today. It could only ever end in one of both ways: he would either get only _just drunk enough_ to sit in the corner, sipping on a random beer and avoid any and every contact someone tried to initiate or he would get _drunk enough_ to perform a semi-erotic streap tease on the kitchen table followed by a pole-dancing performance on a pole that seemed to follow him to every party he went to. And he knows exactly which of the two options his friend hoped to achieve.

Which is why he decided to stay in for the evening. If only he knew upfront he’d stay awake either way.

He sighs and blocks his phone, dropping it next to his hip on the couch. Last time he checked it was 4:12 in the night and his heart is finally starting to calm down, his eyelids slowly getting heavier. Not calm enough to go to sleep just yet, Yuuri stands up slowly, making his way to the small kitchen segment.

In carved into his body movements he gets a glass and pours himself the remnants of the lukewarm green tea he was drinking throughout the night (just another reminder for how long he’s up). The drink is just on the right side of warm, calming him even more as soon as it hits the back of his throat. He smiles again, for the second time this night, honestly and willingly, as he puts the now empty glass into the sink and heads off to his bed.

He cannot do anything more than take off his glasses before there’s a loud thud at the door.

His first assumption, as he grumpily pushes his frames on to check his phone, is that Phichit forgot his keys again. Which is why, without thinking twice about it, he yells out “You left the door open!” and unlocks the too-bright screen to reveal a text message from his best friend.

**Phichit [4:20 AM]** _Not cming home tonight dw about me <3 tty tmrw_

Just as he re-reads the words, the door opens, bringing in a surge of light and another thud, as something drops to the floor. Yuuri throws the phone to the floor in panic, a million terrible outcomes to the situation racing through his head. Instantly he’s next to the light switch, turning it on, to take a second look at the mass at his door.

And he is greeted with the sight of a literal angel.

There, on the floor, lies a slim figure, dressed in very tight pants and a _is it a crop top or is it just rolled up oh my god_ surrounded by a halo of gray hair. Very long gray hair, mind you. So long it could even rival Sara’s from his calculus class. Still, the man (because he was definitely a man) cannot be much older than Yuuri himself, cheekbones sharp enough to cut, yet holding a weird type of gentleness, lips colored with subtle lipgloss, plump and parted and so soft even if Yuuri is only looking. And if he smells just a bit too much like vodka, Yuuri doesn’t notice.

So, nothing short of an angel.

The only problem is the angel isn’t moving.

Yuuri quickly kneels next to him, grasping his shoulder and shaking it lightly.

“E-excuse me, what-” Yuuri starts when The Angel _snores_ loudly, probably waking up the whole floor with the door still open.

Now, this is surprising.

Yuuri shakes his arm again, more firmly this time, and the man at his feet grumbles something that sounds suspiciously little like english and tries to swat his arm away. The japanese boy blushes a bit at the contact and takes his arm back as if the touch burned his skin, something that Phichit, if he’d been here to witness, he would definitely never let him live down.

“Excuse me,” Yuuri states louder this time, deciding it best to wake the man up without any physical contact. “Are you- Are you okay?” He asks, groaning in his mind at how lame the words sounded out loud.

But it seems to do the trick, as The Angel blinks absently a few times, before finally managing to keep his eyes open to look at him. _Of course_ they are crystal blue, looking like a noon sky on the brightest summer day. Sure, torment Yuuri more, as if the occurrence isn’t awkward enough for him yet.

Suddenly, those beautiful lips quirk up into the brightest heart-shaped grin the boy has ever seen.

And then blurt out absolute gibberish.

Yuuri starts a bit at that, but he’s not surprised per se. The Detroit college he attends for a year now is just as full of international students as Phichit is of terrible advice. With that in mind, he smiles sheepishly.

“Sorry, I… I, uh, I don’t understand a word you’re saying right now,”

Whatever The Angel is saying (in russian maybe?) he stops in his tracks, and looks wide-eyed at Yuuri, as if surprised to hear that a randomly picked person in America doesn’t understand whatever his mother tongue is.

“English?” he asks in a heavily accented voice. Yuuri nods. Maybe they are getting somewhere with this communication thing after all.

“Yeah, english is fine. What’s your name?” he tries, and if he says it a little slower than he usually would, who can judge him?

“Viktor” ~~The Angel~~ Viktor says, pointing at his chest, implicating, that yes, indeed, it is him that is named Viktor.

“Alright,” Yuuri gulps a bit at that, but then he stands up from his kneeling position next to the lying man, offering a hand to help the latter up. “Now, I’m sorry, but this is not, exactly, uh… your room. Could you please tell me where you live, so I can point you there or even find someone who could escort you?” He could just as well address the problem right away.

“Saint Petersburg,” Viktor looks up at Yuuri, confused, as if he didn’t just punch the air out of his lungs with those two simple words. “I live in Saint Petersburg.”

Well, that might be a bit of a problem. A four thousand miles of distance kind of a problem.

“Okay, that- That might be a shock then, but you’re in Detroit right now.” Yuuri swallows hard, because out of the two people present he shouldn’t have to be the one to think anything of this situation. If it was anyone else, they would probably just throw the clearly drunk russian out of the door, locking it good this time. But here he is, with a drunk angel at his threshold, hoping he had the kind of ability to think of a solution.

He sighs. He should not be doing this.

But then Viktor just sits up and giggles and if Yuuri was confused earlier, now he’s just lost. So he stares down at the russian, who breaks off into feats of genuine laughter, and it’d probably make him at least smile, but he’s starting to get concerned.

“Listen, how about I’ll just call my friend and you’ll stay the night at her-”

“ _NO!_ ” Oh look, the laughter stopped and Yuuri cannot move his legs, because Viktor threw himself at him and trapped his legs in an octopus hold. And when he looks up, _oh good god_ , it’s the closest Yuuri has ever seen a human look like a lost puppy. “You’re the only friend I have in this place! Please, don’t leave me!”

Okay, what on Earth…

“I promise, I’ll leave in the morning, I’ll even sleep on the floor, just don’t throw me out!” All hopes of escape are long gone as Yuuri tries to untangle his legs. He can’t help but notice that. for a drunk man, Viktor sure has a lot of strength. With a huff, the japanese man gives up.

“Okay, okay, you can stay, just please let me go!” And with that his legs are free so suddenly that he almost loses his balance. “Just… you can sleep on the couch,” As he looks down at the unexpected guest, he’s met with a look like he’s just saved not only this poor mans life but also his dog and his best friend. He blushes so heavily he’s sure it’ll still be there when he wakes up in the morning (given he will sleep at all at this point).

He moves on unsteady legs towards the front door, finally closing it and locking it this time, just in case. Yet, when he turns around, to help Viktor up properly this time, the russian is still sitting up, only this time leaning against the wall, eyes closed, shoulders moving subtly.

Yuuri suddenly feels very lost in his own dorm room.

 

“Please, stop laughing, Phichit! This is serious!”

“ _Oh, I know, drunk russians breaking into other people's dorms is **deadly** serious._ ”

“Yes! Yes they are! And I do not appreciate that you don’t act like it!”

“ _Okay, whatever you say, here, I’m not laughing anymore. So, what did you do?_ ”

“I… I gave him a blanket. He’s still asleep. Hey, you said you stopped laughing!”

“ _I’m sorry, it’s just so… so **you** , Yuuri. Only you can just accept the fact that a drunk guy barged into your room, fell asleep and then also cover him so he wouldn’t get cold. God, I love you so much_.”

“You should have seen him, I couldn’t just… leave the guy like this. He’s in a crop top, he could get a cold.”

“ _...You’ve gotta be kidding me right now, Yuuri. Don’t tell me you’re crushing on the poor guy._ ”

Just as Yuuri got rid of the terrible blush from last night, Phichit just goes in and paints it red all over again. He seriously considers hanging up on his roommate.

“It’s not- I just- It’s not a crush! He is- It’d be weird, he’s- For god’s sake, Phichit, stop laughing!”

The japanese man groans, a little too loud, and the figure in their hall moves, the snoring stopping suddenly. He freezes, muting his ex-friend’s laughter and waits until he hears the deep breathing again. Fortunately, Phichit stopped laughing at some point and now was just trying to stop his giggling.

“For fuck’s sake, Phichit! He almost woke up.”

“ _Ooh, I don’t like it when you swear. It’s like your sweet little voice wasn’t made for such filthy words._ ”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“ _Fine, fine! But, isn’t that why you called me? To wake him up or something? To work out what to do now?_ ”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want him to wake up just yet. Only when I work out what to do next, how am I gonna get him to Saint Petersburg? Oh no, I should’ve kicked him out when I still had the chance, shouldn’t I? This was such a mistake-”

“ _Yuuri, calm down, breathe in and out. There you go, slowly. Now, you don’t have much time to work that out, you’ll just have to kick him out anyway. There’s not much you can do, can you? You have to leave in… what, like, fifteen minutes?_ ”

Yuuri knows his friend is right. It’s not often he could get private hours at the dance studio, and right now he could really use some time to himself to unwind and lose himself in rhythmic moves just like he always has when something was bothering him. To clear his head.

“So what, you think I should just… tell the guy out?”

“ _Well, yeah, what else can you do, drive him to Saint Petersburg?_ ”

“Sure. I’ll see what I can do. Thanks anyway. When will you be back?”

“ _I don’t know, I still haven’t even had breakfast. I might actually go somewhere with this Chris guy, once he walks out of the shower._ ”

Sighing, Yuuri hangs up with a short “Good luck” and stands up to walk to Viktor. He’s already dressed in his workout clothes, gym bag waiting by the door. And just as he thinks he can do this, to wake him up like he has a few hours ago, the guy stirs his head, a few long gray strands falling from behind his ear to his face, and his lips pushing open, creating yet another picture of perfect beauty.

Fifteen minutes later, Yuuri storms out of his dorm, leaving keys in the lock and a short note by the sleeping russian in his hallway.

 

With head pounding in pain like it hasn’t in years, Viktor slowly wakes up, involutionary raising his hand to block out the sun. His back aches about just as much as you’d expect from sleeping in a sitting position on the floor. It takes a lot to get him that drunk and no matter how hard he tries, he cannot remember anything that happened after Chris brought in the third bottle of vodka.

Viktor finally opens his eyes. The layout of the room feels familiar, he’s clearly in one of the university’s dorms, only the decorations making him realize he’s not in his own room.

Trying to stand up, he realizes he’s been covered with a fluffy blue blanket. He smiles a bit, noting to thank whoever took such profound care of him the night before. Which finally leads him to notice the little note on the floor, beside a glass of water and a few pills. Not even doubting what they might be filled with, he swallows the pills down and drinks the whole glass in one go, raising the piece of paper to his eyes.

_Hey, Viktor (That’s your name, right? Sorry if I got it wrong)_

_I had to leave and I couldn’t wake you up, I left you advil and water here, so you don’t have to look for it around the room._

_There’s also a fresh towel in the bathroom, so if you want to take a shower, you’re welcome to._

_I don’t know what your phone is, but if your battery died and you need to contact someone, I left a universal charger on the coffee table on your left._

_In case it doesn’t fit and you need to call someone home in Saint Petersburg, you can probably just call from the reception. I don’t know how much they’ll charge for international calls though, so I also left you $10 next to the charger, use them if you don’t have any dollars on you._

_For the reference, you’re in Detroit, Michigan. You seemed to be surprised to hear that when I told you that yesterday, I thought it's best to remind you._

_When you decide to leave, I left the keys to the dorm in the lock. Please lock the apartment when you leave and then leave the keys at the reception._

_Also, my roommate Phichit might come back any minute, just leave the keys with him if that happens._

_If you need any more information, my number is on the back._

_Yuuri_

Viktor finishes reading with a big grin on his face, feeling so much better just from those few sentences left for him by the unknown to him guardian angel. He fishes inside his pocket for his phone which surprisingly was left with almost 20% and he diales a number he knows by heart at this point.

“Chris? Yeah, it’s Viktor. I’m fine, don’t worry, I’ll be back in our dorm in an hour. _But you’ll never guess where I am right now.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I don't know if I should continue? This is definitely left with an open ending and I feel like I could pull off like 2 more chapters or sth idk. 
> 
> Anyway, please, scream at me/with me on tumblr http://thetoastlady.tumblr.com/
> 
> EDIT: So the response has been amazing and I'm actually crying just a lil bit becuase of how lovely everyone is. I've changed this into a 3shot because hell if I won't write more because of all this. A BIG FLUFFY WARM COZY THANK YOU EVERYONE <3  
> I sort of may have changed a few paragraphes for the next chapter to make any sense. Nothing major I think? But you know. Plot fuel. Narrative determinism. Those kind of things.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He flashes him a mischievous smirk. “Or are you still trying to make me believe you don’t have a crush on the guy? Because I haven’t seen you interact with him even once and I smell this big old crush a mile away.”
> 
> Yuuri thinks his face is going to turn permanently red if Phichit continues like this, and if the words leave a burning stinge in his heart, he doesn’t show it.
> 
> “I mean… he was obviously attractive, in a non-sexual, non-romantic, objective way…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've edited the previous chapter a bit so this one makes some remnants of sense.
> 
> I've been writing this for the last ~6-7 hours because I reeeeally want to get this out before I have to leave 'till Monday, because I won't be able to update again before that.
> 
> The problem with my writing is, this is the first fanfiction I've written since I was maybe 13; I am right now trying to get into an arts college (I have a qualification talk in a month) so I still need to paint 5 landscapes and a shitton of still lives and every minute I'm not spending on doing that is a minute I'm spending on beating myself up because I'm not doing that. Does that make sense? I do not know.
> 
> I also still have a lot of free time on my hands which is why I've decided to write this in the first place, but I still can't really write in any other way than in a one, long sitting, so I still need to wait so I have maybe 8 hours to spare in a row. Which is harder to do. So here I am, at 2 AM because I'm stupid and bad at time management.
> 
> Okay, anyway. I reeeally hope you like the continuation, I'm both more and less sattisfied with it than the previous chapter : D

Viktor flops on the bed, wincing as he feels his head ache. The world spins before his eyes for a short while.

“It doesn’t even have to be the same Yuuri as far as I’m aware,” he sighs into the void. Luckily, the void answers.

“Isn’t it best to find out? He left you his phone number, it’s not like you have no way to contact him.”

Chris is right and Viktor is perfectly aware of that. However, the more he reads the note Yuuri left him the more he thinks it’s no use. Because it’s fairly obvious that such a sweet and thoughtful person cannot be the erotic and _so very elusive_ Yuuri Viktor was once lucky enough to meet at a freshmen welcoming party and is hung up on ever since.

He hugs the piece of paper close to his chest and sighs again.

“Christ, I thought at least your lovesick phase was over, and this guy comes in and fucks it all up. Give me that,” Suddenly Chris is standing over him, the note from Yuuri in his left hand and his phone in the right. He compares it a few times and holds the paper back, typing furiously (well, as furiously as you could manage, having only one thumb available) on his screen.

With his curiosity at its peak, Viktor takes it back and stands up to look over the blonde’s shoulder.

“...Did you do that just to go through your instagram?”

“No, I did that because I’m a genius. Look,” His friend pulls up a photo from last night, of himself with an unknown to Viktor boy, with their arms flung over the other’s shoulders, the two of them clearly enjoying each other’s company. It’s a sweet picture, but…

“What does it have to do with anything we just talked about?”

“Have you even listened to me when I told you anything about last night?” Chris pretends to be hurt for a moment, but he knows better than to believe that Viktor listens to even half of the things people say to him. “Look at the handle. His name is _Phichit_ and he didn’t invite me over to his place yesterday because his _roommate_ was staying there the whole night.” Chris clicks to move to the other’s profile and hands the phone to Viktor.

“See anything you like?”

And see something he likes he does. Every other picture at least teases him with a dash of black hair or blesses him with doe-like brown eyes often hidden behind blue frames. After so many months of daydreaming about seeing them again it feels… surreal.

“But… What? How did you…?”

“Told you I was a genius,” Chris grins happily. “I saw this face on his profile yesterday and _knew_ it looked familiar. I only made the connection when you started being all lovey-dovey again this morning. So, unless my Phichit is roommates with your Eros Yuuri,” Viktor glares at his friend, because they agreed to never talked about the time he got drunk and mentioned something about Yuuri being so Eros _I think he might’ve impregnated me!_ “who decided not to attend a party, which is highly unlikely, and your Saviour Yuuri is accidentally roommates with a different Phichit who also decided to go out while he stayed in… you’re standing here moping instead of texting the love of your life.”

“It’s not like I can just text him, Chris!” Viktor whines after saving and sending himself a picture of Yuuri, all sweaty (after dance practice maybe? There _is_ a pole in the background) with slicked back hair, definitely not to set as his lock screen, because that would be _creepy_ and he’s _cool_ not _creepy_. “It’s complicated! He probably thinks I’m in Saint Petersburg by now!”

“You never even cleared that up?”

“There was never a chance!” There’s a pout on Viktor’s face, as he tries to find justification for his actions. Sure, he was thinking to stay and wait for Yuuri but the guy clearly wanted him out of his dorm and after making enough of a first impression the previous evening he didn’t want to worsen that even more by overstaying his welcome.

“So what, you think I should have stayed there and walk out of the shower naked in front of him when he comes back and announce that I’m going to be his boyfriend?”

“This is so weirdly specific I’m going to pretend I didn’t even hear that and you didn’t ever think of doing exactly that.” winces Chris as he sits back on the couch and picks his bowl of cereal from the coffee table. “No, I was thinking more of leaving him a message like he left you, or maybe, oh, I don’t know, _texting him_ as soon as possible to explain the situation? Man, you really _are_ dense sometimes, Vitya.”

Viktor ignores the jab and pats his lower lip with his finger, slowly figuring out a plan.

“I think I might know what to do. But I’m going to need your help.”

“It’s _you_ who owns me, like, ten favours by now.” Chris doesn’t even look up from his bowl.

“Make it eleven then! Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

“For fuck’s sake, Vitya, just _text_ him already!”

 _______________ 

It’s not that Yuuri is disappointed when he comes back only to meet Phichit in their appartment. In fact, he feels his shoulders relax when he realizes they’re alone.

But he’s kind of disappointed.

“How was training?” Phichit greets him with a bright smile, standing up and walking up to him with open arms.

“No hugging until I take a shower, you know better than that!” Yuuri startles, dropping his gym bag and quickly disappearing into the bathroom. He hears Phichit laugh from the other side of the door.

“Sure, but you need to tell me all about your lover boy when you come back out,” he states and Yuuri hears his footsteps getting farther from the bathroom.

Right, he was supposed to wake Viktor up before he went out. He definitely should not have ran out after making the dorm as hangover-friendly as possible and leaving an idiotic note listing out things the guy might’ve needed. For heaven’s sake, he basically even gave the guy ten dollars out of guilt for leaving him alone!

Walking into the shower he notes that the fresh shower he pulled out for the guest was left untouched on the sink counter. Well, that’s one thing less to explain to Phichit once he comes out.

He washes himself as quickly as possible, hoping to have this whole day behind him soon. So, the faster he gets to the lecture Phichit is bound to give him, the better. He puts on some comfortable wear that was still drying up and, when he deems himself presentable in the mirror, he goes out to finally talk to his roommate.

Who catches him as soon as he steps a foot outside the bathroom door.

“So? How was it? Spill! I need the deeds on your hot russian trespasser! Did you take any pictures?”

“No! Phichit, what’s wrong with you?” Yuuri flops on the couch in the middle of the room as soon as they get there, worn out from his training and the whole situation. Phichit drops next to him, flinging his legs over the Japanese boy’s knees.

“What? I need to approve of your life choices, Yuuri. If long distance is going to work, it has to be worth it.” Phichit winks at him playfully, ignoring how flustered Yuuri gets by the minute. “Did you get his number?”

“Not… really,” he laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I gave him mine. Kind of.”

“Go you, Yuuri! Finally you’re being forward. What do you mean, _kind of_?

“I didn’t exactly wake him up this morning.”

And so he explains the whole mess to his friend, whose smile only grows (to Yuuri’s utter surprise) as the story progresses. By the end of it, Phichit bursts into full-blown laughter.

“Why are you laughing at _everything_ I tell you today?” Yuuri whines pathetically.

“Oh, Yuuri, my dear, sweet, innocent Yuuri,” Phichit smiles with amusement.

“What does my innocence have to do with anything? If you’re not going to tell me how irresponsible I acted then please, just leave me here to cringe at myself _by myself_.”

“Believe me, I will. But first of all, I need to tell you, you just deliberately fucked up your last chances at a hot russian boyfriend, unless he’s into flustered hot messes like yourself.” He flashes him a mischievous smirk. “Or are you still trying to make me believe you don’t have a crush on the guy? Because I haven’t seen you interact with him even once and I smell this big old crush a mile away.”

Yuuri thinks his face is going to turn permanently red if Phichit continues like this, and if the words leave a burning stinge in his heart, he doesn’t show it.

“I mean… he was obviously attractive, in a non-sexual, non-romantic, objective way…”

“I _knew it_! This is _great_.” Out of thin air, Yuuri swears, Phichit has his phone in his hand, snapping a picture of the most startled man ever caught on camera. Yuuri knows better than to try and stop him at this point - they’re only living together for not even a year, but he feels like he knows him just as well as his own sister.

“So, if I _did_ have a crush, which I’m not saying I do, but _if I did_... What do you think I should do?” He hides his face in his hands, letting himself relax into the too-fuzzy back of the couch.

“I’m going to have to be honest with you, Yuuri, but there’s not really much you can do at this point.” Phichit sighs and lets his phone flop down to the side of his thigh. He pats his friends shoulder. “But maybe he will text you once he’s back home. How far is Saint Petersburg from here again? Five thousand miles? It’s not like he’s there already, and even if, the time zones are a fucked up thing. Just leave it be and if he doesn’t message you by the end of the weekend, just forget about him and I’ll point you to at least ten other people who wish they’d be in his place.”

 _Maybe, just maybe_ , Yuuri thinks, _this may work_

 _______________

Needless to say, it doesn’t work.

And it’s not like Yuuri was waiting with baited breath and jumping at every vibration of his phone.

Because he didn’t fall _that_ low.

(He fell even lower. He muted all his notifications except from texts and checked his phone every half an hour even if it didn’t light up.)

So when he wakes up on a dull Monday morning, there’s not much he can do about the situation but overthink it in his head while he falls back into his routine of lectures with dance training in between.

And maybe it’s the latter that helps him after all. Of course he’s not over it, because who would be over the fact that ~~a hot russian angel~~ an objectively handsome foreigner ignored the fact that they gave him their phone number. So he trains and he trains and he trains.

Phichit is a good distraction too. He doesn’t even approach the fact that they’ve both been expecting a text to arrive to Yuuri. It would be no use, so he just rolls with it and acts as if nothing has happened. Which is great for the Japanese’s current obsession; telling himself the previous weekend hadn’t happened.

If he feels watched for the first few days, he doesn’t let it show. He just blames it on Phichit making a new friend at the party, who begins to follow them around from time to time, talking majorly to the Thai boy but still casting curious glances over at Yuuri. It’s only logical he feels like someone is observing him thoroughly, because he is literally observed by Chris.

“Say, Yuuri,” Chris begins when the three of them are out for lunch on a Wednesday and Phichit is slightly behind, to cover the pay for their sandwiches. “I have a feeling I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

“I, uh… this university has a pretty big campus with a lot of people, we must have crossed paths at some point,” Yuuri tries, biting into the bread to try and avoid the conversation without Phichit’s supervision. It’s not that he doesn’t trust the guy but he’s just so… _touchy_.

“No, I mean, you seem awfully familiar. Besides, your face is not something easily forgotten in the crowd.” The blonde winks at him, Yuuri startles a bit.

“Haha… thanks?” Yuuri gives silent prays for Phichit to pay soon.

“Of course, that’s it!” He doesn’t think he wants to know what _that_ is that is it, but he’s got a feeling he’ll find out anyway. “Yuuri, do you pole dance sometimes?”

The boy freezes and chills creep up his spine.

“Well, I do, actually, I only train in private, so I take it you’ve seen me at a party at some point?” Yuuri repeats the same awkward laughter from before. “I’m a lightweight and even if I tell Phichit to stop me, sometimes I just get… very drunk.

“Better, _mon cheri_ , on the freshmen welcome party you’ve challenged me to a pole dance dance off! Pole dance off? Something. And as far as I don’t like to admit it, I lost to you, badly.” Chris laughs cheerily at the memory, while Yuuri almost chokes on his sandwich.

“I’m so sorry, I.. If I get drunk enough to do something like that, I usually black out.” He starts waving his hands in front of him apologetically. “Whatever I said or did, I didn’t mean it-” He stops when Chris continues to laugh through his despair.

“Oh Yuuri, don’t worry. It’s a very fond memory of mine, I didn’t talk to you about it to humiliate or mock you. It’s you who humiliated me and that Plisetsky kid. I mean, that’s what you get for agreeing to dance with a ballet major, right?” Chris smiles reassuringly and waves to Phichit who _finally_ makes his way over to them.

“Hey, Chris, what did you do?” Phichit says accusingly when he sees the shade of Yuuri’s face that matches the tomato on his sandwich in shades.

“I did nothing wrong! I was simply complimenting our Yuuri here on his pole dancing skills! More or less at least.” Chris pouts a bit at the accusation in Phichit’s tone. Yuuri nods to his statement though, smiling a bit at his friend.

“Apparently I challenged him to a dance off at the welcoming party. And I won,” The boy even allows himself to laugh at the image it creates in his mind, both funny and dreadful.

“Oh, I remember that! I didn’t know it was you, though I could’ve guessed after last Friday,” Phichit joins in on Yuuri’s laughter.

“What?! Why didn’t you tell me?” Yuuri screeches, hands immediately going to cover his face in embarrassment. How much blackmail material does Phichit possess that he doesn’t even know about?

“Yuuri, you never even want to know what happens when you drink. So I never even mention it, as the best friend I am,” He pats him on the back slowly, letting him adjust to the thought.

“...I guess that makes sense. It doesn’t mean I forgive you though!” Yuuri cries, finally prying his fingers off his eyes, after remembering there still was a sandwich in between.

“How about you let me redeem myself, hm?” Asks Chris suddenly. Yuuri jumps at the sole prospect of humiliating himself further.

“N-no, I don’t think that’s a good idea, I don’t even really go out anymore…”

“Pretty please?” The pout on Chris’ lips comes back. “Okay, you don’t need to pole dance with me. But please come to the party JJ is throwing on Friday? I have a feeling you’ll love it.”

“Why would I…”

“Yuuri, that’s a great idea!” Phichit bargs in, gripping his friend’s shoulders and shaking them slightly. “There’s nothing better to help your current state than getting drunk and letting loose!”

Yuuri short-circuits. It’s the biggest hint Phichit mentioned for the last few days about Viktor and it’s caught him off-guard. Which it shouldn’t, of course, because it’s not like he wasn’t thinking the exact same thing. And so he sighs heavily.

“Please? For me? Just get a little drunk with me?” Begs the Thai boy, mistaking the sigh as some kind of protest it is not.

Yuuri smiles weakly.

“Sure. Why the hell not?”

 _______________ 

As Friday rolls around, Yuuri has to admit that he cannot wait for the party.

Soon enough he realizes it really was a good idea. He doesn’t need to drink more than he feels comfortable with, only as much as he needs to unwind and let loose.

So when they find themselves at the JJ party Yuuri rushes to the drinks table, leaving Chris and Phichit to greet the slightly-intoxicated host. As he holds his first bottle of beer, he looks around at the guests. Turns out, they are fashionably late and the host really is the most sober person in his line of sight.

And he doesn’t want to stand out.

He’s at his third bottle when Chris fulfills his promise and brings out the pole. And while he’s not drunk enough to join him, he sure is just as tipsy as he needs to enjoy the show.

That’s when he hears a voice that _certainly should not be right behind his back_.

“I was actually hoping you would join him.”

God, the accent is just as he remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCK MY LIFE IT'S 2:30 AM I'M LEAVING IN 4 HOURS AND I HAVEN'T EVEN STARTED PACKING UP
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented saying I should continue this. It fills my soul with all sorts of fuzzy warm feelings. I'm a hap child <3
> 
> As before, let me know what you think in the comments below!
> 
> (I've also been thinking about an AU where Yuuri is a graphic novelist and Viktor is a singer, based off on a 2001 polish comedy/action/mafia(it gets pretty wild) movie, but I don't know if I'll find it in me to pop out anything more. Oh goodness. I feel dead, I just finished writing this chapter, I can't even find it in me to read it over. Thank you if you have, I really appreciate every single one of you! <3)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think I can remember that with Viktor though,” he muses. “Had to be the… freshmen inauguration party. But it was with Yuuri too. And then I had to live with his lovesick ass for eight months. Don’t let him forget this time around, please, for me.”
> 
> Phichit chuckles and goes back to looking at his best friend, who is currently drowning in the blue eyes he kept talking about for the whole previous weekend.
> 
> “I don’t think he would ever forget this one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is kinda late haha what

“I was actually hoping you would join him.”

God, the accent is just as he remembered. 

Yuuri turns around and surely enough, leaning by the wall a few feet from him stands Viktor. With a sly grin on his face, silver-platinum-blonde-no-fucking-way-it’s-natural hair falling gracefully on his shoulders, beautiful Viktor. In this moment Yuuri understands one thing.

His life has turned into a very bad parody of a rom-com.

The thing is, in all the movies he and Phichit have seen on those rare evenings together on their worn out couch were just the right amount of tipsy that they clicked the Netflix button for ‘Romantic Comedies’ almost unironically, the female protagonist in his shoes feels weak on her knees. Her peripheral vision blurs and the only thing she can focus on is the male object of her affection. The world turns pink and he smirks, as she runs into his arms, locking their lips.

While he just squints because yes, he has his glasses, but this is ridiculous.

His expression must seem furious to the poor Russian, because he quickly puts his arms in front of him, eyes wide in shock.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking. And I’ll be happy to explain if you let me--”

“You’re tall,” announces Yuuri after a while. “I haven’t seen you standing,” he continues when Viktor doesn’t react, “it’s weird. I didn’t think you’d be higher than me.”

“Well, I _am_ wearing heels,” Viktor chuckles awkwardly. He was not prepared for this yet another version of the Japanese, neither the careful boy who left him a note nor the flirtatious angel, swooning all over him, because this ruins all his plans.

“Sorry, I just-- I’m lacking a brain-to-mouth filter. I get this way when I’m tipsy,” shrugs Yuuri, bringing the bottle of beer he still had in his fist to his mouth. “But, even if you didn’t guess what I was thinking, you _do_ have some explaining to do, don’t you?”

“Right,” Viktor steps a little closer, “I might need a little help though. Don’t know if you’ve gathered, but I was pretty drunk and I can’t remember much from last week,” he winks and _why did I wink, Viktor, you stupid, useless piece of..._ wow, Yura is really starting to rub off on him.

“How about you start with what you’re doing here instead of Saint Petersburg?” and now, oh, okay, now Yuuri _does_ seem irritated.

“Haha, you see, the funny thing about this whole situation is,” Viktor swallows nervously, scratching the back of his neck “I… haven’t exactly been in Saint Petersburg for the last fifteen years of my life?” It’s not a question, it’s a fact. Why would he make it sound like a question?

Yuuri doesn’t look impressed in the slightest, waiting for Viktor to continue.

“So, I moved here when I was seven with my nephew and uncle--he coaches figure skaters, I’m actually a figure skater myself, a pretty good one actually, I’m going for a world championship next season, anyway--” He can hear an imaginary Chris in his head going _very smooth, Nikiforov, every chance he gives you you fuck it all up_ , “now I’m studying here, on this very campus we’re in!” He flashes him one of his famous smiles all girls and boys collectively swoon over. Yuuri’s somehow having none of it.

“And you’re, like, what, twenty two then?” He asks, furrowing his brows in an effort to add the numbers up. When Viktor nods happily, he goes on. “What are you doing on a party for first years? Of course it’s not exclusive but a guy like you obviously has better things to do than that.”

 _A guy like him? Is that a compliment or an offense?_ He pays it no mind for now. “Well, how else would I meet you again?”

“Maybe you could text me like any other person would, having my number?” Yuuri snaps, the frustration and bitterness finally finding a way to escape his mind, where it was boiling for the last week. “I actually waited for you to call me, y’know? I didn’t want to hold on to false hope, but Phichit convinced me I should finally give myself a chance and then you didn’t even _text me_ to call me a creep for letting you sleep in my dorm.”

“Phichit?” Now this was a new one. “But Phichit was in on this. He helped us organize this whole party.”

“What-- Helped you-- What do you mean, _us_?” The Japanese blushes heavily, almost dropping his (now empty, anyway) bottle. “And what do you mean, _organize this_? This is supposed to be JJ's party!”

It takes Viktor a while to remember who JJ, but when he does, he simply shrugs. “This is the Phichit’s helping part. It wouldn’t be exactly easy for two random third years to talk a freshman into throwing a party on a whim. But your friend somehow manages to convince anyone to anything, or so Chris has told me,” Now is a good time to wink and he doesn’t waste the chance, causing the blush of Yuuri’s face to deepen. “He also helped a lot to talk you into this, I don’t think Chris would be able to do that on his own.”

“And he knew who you were? All this time?” Yuuri asks in disbelief. It doesn’t make much sense, for his best friend to keep this a secret this whole time.

“Oh no, we didn’t even meet once this week,” Viktor laughs. “I figured if he was a good friend, he would’ve told you right away, and I wanted to have this first conversation face to face, without you accusing me of not texting you sooner.”

“I do accuse you of not texting me sooner though.” he pouts. “Because that was a dick move and all of the things you said could have been said through a phone, without me being well on my way to getting drunk.”

“It does help though, doesn’t it? I like this lack of filter of yours.”

Yuuri looks away, a bit ashamed.

“You’re very lucky you’re cute and I like you,” he says finally. Realizing what he just said, he clasps a hand over his mouth, while Viktor giggles in relief.

“So does this mean I’m forgiven?”

He likes Viktor. While not messaging him sooner has been a dick move and he doesn’t understand why he’d make such an effort just to see him again (instead of, of course, texting him), he has no way of denying his liking of the man. The Russian’s ability to speak English has also improved drastically with a significantly smaller amount of alcohol in his system. All in all, he just seems… nice. Irrational, impulsive and maybe a bit dorky, but it only creates an image he doesn’t mind in the slightest exploring further.

He smirks as this sudden realization hits him. He reaches out his hand towards Viktor.

“It depends... if you can win this dance off.”

 

He is happy.

He is so happy even Chris smiles at him, seeing him dancing an adapted on the spot kind of flamenco to remixes of hit pop songs with the dark haired boy, who seems to be enjoying the situation just as much as his partner. Their laughter reaches his ears with ease in the almost empty room. It’s almost 5 A.M. and the party is starting to die down not-so-slowly.

But it’s not like those two idiots notice. Unlike the last time Chris saw them two dancing together, now they’re not even drunk, last bits of alcohol leaving them earlier and now they are too busy with each other to reach for a drink. So if they don’t notice the mini-bar slowly emptying without their help, it’s not likely for them to see how the dance floor contains only the two of them.

The blonde and Phichit are sitting on the far end of the room, occupying the only couch and watching their consecutive friends in content silence. With half-hooded eyes Chris snuggled further into the Thai’s chest.

“I can’t remember when was the last time I saw Yuuri laugh this much with someone else than me, you know?”

He can only smile at that.

“I think I can remember that with Viktor though,” he muses. “Had to be the… freshmen inauguration party. But it was with Yuuri too. And then I had to live with his lovesick ass for eight months. Don’t let him forget this time around, please, for me.”

Phichit chuckles and goes back to looking at his best friend, who is currently drowning in the blue eyes he kept talking about for the whole previous weekend.

“I don’t think he would ever forget this one.”

 

  
First thing in the morning Yuuri feels is a warm touch at the tip of his head, along with gentle strokes on his arm. He panics only a little, raising his head a little too eagerly and almost colliding with what he assumes to be someone’s chin. He feels more than hears a light chuckle and that’s when he realizes he’s half-lying on somebody’s torso.

“Easy there, buddy,” comes a low rumble, causing shivers through the whole of Yuuri’s body. He lets himself glance up and finds his whole face hurting, frames of his glasses digging into his temples and loose strands of Viktor’s hair sticking uncomfortably to his cheeks.

_Viktor._

Yuuri adjusts his glasses and is greeted with the warmest smile he’s ever seen directed at him. It’s impossible not to smile back. And so he does.

Viktor kisses his forehead.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” he mumbles. “It’s just amazing, waking up to you. Also, your knee is kind of going into my thigh so if you could move _just a little bit…_ ”

The Japanese blushes quickly and stumbles to sit up.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“Yuuri, it’s okay, slow down,” Viktor says, clearly amused. He sits up as well and swings his arms around the other’s shoulders, holding him close. His head lands in the crook of Yuuri’s neck, still warm from sleep, and he plants a gentle kiss to his collarbone.

It takes a minute for Yuuri to take in their surroundings. The layout of the apartment feels similar to the one Phichit and Yuuri live in, two beds next to opposite walls in the room, couch in the middle (where Yuuri vaguely remembers Viktor and himself passing out on) and a very basic open kitchen, separating the entrance and the tiny bathroom. But, there is a clear lack of Phichit’s photos on the walls, the sink is empty of dirty dishes and the wallpaper isn’t falling apart at the seams.

“Mmm, Yuuri, are you alright?” Viktor’s voice brings him out of his thoughts. “You seem pretty out of it.”

“I barely woke up five minutes ago,” he notices, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. Viktor laughs again, because there’s no reason not to be as absurdly happy as he feels. He squeezes Yuuri one last time and stands up, only swaying a little after being crushed by another body on top of him for the last few hours.

“Hm, true. Do you want coffee? Tea?” he waddles to the kitchen cabinets and throws an expectant look at Yuuri after taking out two boxes.

“Do you have green tea?” Viktor nods and tosses both boxes aside to reach further into the cabinet.

Yuuri rests his chin on the back of the couch to observe the Russian scrambling around to prepare their drinks. 

The morning after the party (though it can hardly be morning, considering the time they got back) is so different than he thought it to be; he was expecting to wake up alone, possibly with a throbbing headache and an unexplained sense of guilt that liked to follow drinking sorrows away. 

Now though, even though his head is still cloudy, he can only smile at the dreamy-like atmosphere surrounding them. Still in their mess of party clothes, hair disheveled and makeup smudged all around their faces. Content silence and stubborn light falling through the blinds surrounding them with the pleasant feeling of There’s No Place We’d Rather Be.

Viktor turns around and rests on the counter, waiting for the water to boil. He catches Yuuri’s eyes following him and beams at him.

“You know,” he begins, going back to pour the boiling water to the prepared cups, “I was kind of scared to go to sleep today,” he admits sheepishly. When the tea is ready enough he tosses the bags into the bin and walks back to sit next to Yuuri.

When the latter looks back at him with a confused expression, he continues.

“Up until yesterday each time I fell asleep after meeting you, you were gone by the time I woke up.”

Yuuri blushes and averts his gaze but smiles nevertheless.

“God, you’re so cheesy. If I knew that before I never would’ve hope you’d text me.”

“Yuuuuri, you’re so cruel!” With a dramatic pout Viktor catches the fabric of his shirt over his heart with one hand, while the other lands over his eyes, and flops back on the couch. “How will I ever recover?”

His breath catches when he feels lips on his cheek. He brings his hand back up and stares at Yuuri, who is still blushing furiously but doesn’t run away.

“I think you’ll manage,” he giggles. When Viktor doesn’t reply and only stares dumbfounded at him, he starts getting slightly worried. “I’m sorry, was that-- was that too much? Was that too forward? I-- I’m sorry, I have _no_ idea what’s gotten into me…” he looks anywhere but at Viktor and reaches awkwardly for his still too hot cup of tea and ignores the temperature even as it burns holes in his tongue.

Viktor reaches and cups his cheek gently. Yuuri finally looks back at him and finds the Russian blushing too. He moves his face closer, just enough to make their noses brush. Yuuri licks his lips and almost immediately regrets his decision when blue eyes follow the movement.

“Can I?” Viktor asks and Yuuri can only nod and close his eyes, as they slowly lean into their mutual space, the touch of each other’s lips gentle but electric at the same time.

There’s this stigma behind first kisses, all those stories of butterflies, fireworks and passion, all that jazz. And while Yuuri absolutely understands what the author of love-praising essays mean by their words, he could never use them to accurately describe what having Viktor Nikiforov touch him feels like.

Earth-shattering. Breath-taking?

Yes, of course, but most of all it feels right.

Because it’s not perfect. He hasn’t kissed many people throughout his short life, and he wouldn’t want to admit the percentage of his kisses that belonged to his family and friendly pecks on cheeks. Of course he has no chance of being a great natural kisser. So they clash teeth multiple times and he accidentally bites Viktor’s tongue when it actually gets involved. But they _laugh_ at it together and they look into each other’s eyes looking for acceptance and they find it.

Viktor is kind and patient. So what if his kisses aren’t.

When they eventually pull back, it’s with a smile and mutual understanding. Both of them know there’s a lot they still need to figure out. About themselves _and_ about each other.

But this morning feels like a very hopeful start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't want to delve too far into excuses, because like 2/3 of this was done two weeks ago when I wanted to publish it but then oh boi did my life try to ride a train on a roller coaster. But yesterday my best friend sent me a preview of a Suengchuchu mermaid fic and it was so beautiful I felt like writing again.
> 
> The kissing scene sucks so baddddd I want to crawl under a rock but I needed to throw this out. I also felt like I've put too much angst into this absolutely fluffy thing so I needed? To write? Yuuri so happy he could cry?
> 
> Anyway, as always, thoughts and comments are very much appreciated, you can scream at me all you want on tumblr (or just talk to me because I can't talk to people on my own) http://thetoastlady.tumblr.com/
> 
> My head is whirling with ideas for one-shots so maybe when I recover from my college application talk that's in a week I might write something again. I haven't written anything in years, not to mention writing in English (which is a first for me with this one) so as much as I cringe reading through this, I feel like I've gotten over my little fear of writing my own stories. So. There's that.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who commented/will comment, left kudos or bookmarks <3 Seeing people enjoying this fic is a highlight of my day every time I get a notification!


End file.
